Thursday, May 29, 2008

Good: Signal from Mars is restored. A satellite radio that carries signals and commands to the Mars Phoenix lander restarted last night, ending a one-day delay in the robotic explorer’s deployment on the Martian surface.

Bad: Space Station Inconvenienced As Toilet Fails. Nasa has confirmed that the toilet on the International Space Station has failed, leaving astronauts in an urgent need for spare parts. The problem lies with the fan that draws liquids into the waste chamber prior to being ejected to burn up in the atmosphere. At the moment solids can be handled by the Russian-made toilet, but liquid disposal is proving impossible.

Truth: New Yorkers hump like rabbits. ...during the course of 94 episodes and six seasons, the women of "Sex and the City" hit the sheets with a combined total of 94 men and one woman... were the "Sex and the City" women oversexed? Definitely - compared to the average American woman, who has nine sex partners in a lifetime, according to a survey by the Durex brand of condoms. But compared to the average New Yorker, they were right on target.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

This sign is hung outside a construction site near the corner of Ames & Amherst. The "Calculus" arrow points toward the Engineering buildings. "Real People" points the way to the AgeLab & Sloan School of Management.

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When I picture the Igor-like creature likely spinning the cogs under the revolving desert tray in Lobby 7, this guy fits the image in my head, nicely. Also looks like Wong, from Doctor Strange.

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The best advice. Way better than that 'sunscreen' song. And it isn't even really a song. And it sucks.

I struggled with linking to the pseudo-music video or the live version being played by a Tom Menino look-alike. Went with the former. For your pleasure. And if you didn't see this coming, well, I just don't know what to say...

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

So this morning I got to work almost on time. By 8:15 I had actually read through most of my email, and felt generally in-the-know about Tuesday.

Then my inbox turned bold. An email had arrived from one of my favorite people. In the message, which was copied to several others (some I know, some I don't), was a public call-out.

Far be it from me to claim that nothing ever slips my mind - in fact I've left the house sans footwear on several occasions - but when I do something, I typically am certain that I've done it. Let's call "it", "X". The email Sender suggested to everyone copied on the message that I hadn't done "X", when in fact I had, to the Sender's precise specifications. However, the Sender, being a petulant ass-hat, decided that "X"s outcome wasn't what was truly desired. I have the pleasure of bearing the brunt of the discontent.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

I recall scouring the shelves of The Atlantic Food Mart, in search of the last remaining cases of fruity-fresca-like goodness.

In an effort to court Gen-X'ers, Coca-Cola developed a wacky set of ad tactics aimed at getting folks to drink from post-grunge silver cans.

One commercial featured an on-screen hand print that asked you to put your hand up to the tv. Only problem was, the hand print had six fingers - and would disappear before you made it from the sofa to the set, and figured this out. (if anyone can find this commercial online - please link it up in the comments).

The drink enjoys something of a cult following, like Xenu, and fan sites keep the memory of this long-dead Coke endeavor alive.

Also - it came with an on-can manifesto, which I've copied below:

What's the point of OK? Well, what's the point of anything?

OK Soda emphatically rejects anything that is not OK, and fully supports anything that is

The better you understand something, the more OK it turns out to be

OK Soda says, "Don't be fooled into thinking there has to be a reason for everything."

OK Soda reveals the surprising truth about people and situations.

OK Soda does not subscribe to any religion, or endorse any political party, or do anything other than feel OK.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

As I do on most afternoons, right around 3, I trudged across campus to the one and only Starbucks at MIT (methinks). That's where it happened. I saw the "Trai The Chai" sign again.

Then the barista handed me my coffee.

Then I threw my latte back at the anti-grammatical schmuck behind the counter, jumped over it, tore down the sign and broke it in half. I proceeded to lift the espresso machine with a herculean strength attributed to either my grammatical rage, or the machine being empty, and smashed it on the floor. Then I stomped on it and punched it a la Michael Bolton with his paper jammed printer. Students cringed. Members of the ironically located linguistics department cheered. The anti-grammatical schmuck cowered before my red-pen wrath.

Then I blinked.

Then the barista handed me my coffee.

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I also saw this art-work on the walk to work. Either a new Cambridge Tagger has arrived on scene, or someone REALLY digs that Bruce Leroy flick. Either way, I love the iPhone camera, yo.

Thursday, May 08, 2008

True to form, I saw Iron Man last weekend. For Marvel's first foray into self-produced live action film, this was a strong showing. Well shot & well acted - mostly due to R.D. Jr's ability to always seem as if he's talking to himself, even when someone else is on his screen.

Probably the biggest disappointment of the film came in the 15 minutes before it, during the trailer for the new Indiana Jones flick. Really? That's it? Teasers for months on end, competition from Heath Ledger doing his chalk-faced freak-fest, and Cate Blanchett...and that's the best you could do for a 3 minute preview? The resounding chatter, post trailer, was that this could not have been for real. Maybe it was an SNL parody? Samburg strikes back?

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Sadly, no.

George Lucas has fallen so far from grace, I wasn't sure it was possible for me to be MORE disappointed in the man - way to prove me wrong, GL. Time for you to pull a Wachowski, and hide 'til the storm has passed.

Lucas' reps claim he was 'unavailable for comment'. I did some digging & discovered the sad, sad truth.